


sweet dreams are made of this

by colazitron



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troye finds himself awake at 4:30 am the night before his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweet dreams are made of this

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smallbump](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallbump/gifts).



The first thing Troye sees when he wakes up on his twentieth birthday is, against expectations, not Connor Franta. It’s the wall. At some point during the night Troye’s traitorous body must have rolled over, because now when he’s blinking far too tired eyes open and squinting into the dark room he’s met with the expanse of his wall, and not Connor’s pretty face. He can hear the soft huffs of his breath behind him though, so Troye rolls back over carefully, a small smile pulling at his lips when he makes out Connor’s features in the dark. Troye should really learn to sleep without pulling the blinds shut so much. It’d make it far easier to see when he wakes up.

It’d also make it easier to tell what time it is, but as it is, Troye gropes around for his phone, squinting against the sudden harsh brightness, and shielding the display so the light won’t bother Connor.

Four fucking thirty in the fucking AM? On his fucking birthday? Ugh.

Troye puts the phone down and shuffles around a bit to get comfortable again, but it’s like his body’s suddenly flooded with adrenaline or something like that, because it takes all his willpower to keep still and not fidget too much. He just wants a bit more sleep! Surely that’s not too much to ask from one’s own body on one’s own birthday?! He’s fully expecting his family to give him and Connor some private time at some point during the day, and Troye plans to be fully energised for that _ifyouknowwhatImean_.

But, no. Now he’s lying here, staring at Connor in the dark, wondering for how long he can do that before it’s inevitably creepy that he’s watching his boyfriend sleep. Frankly, it’s also not all that riveting. He fishes his phone back out from underneath his pillow, turning the screen brightness down as low as it will go and turning to face Connor, so the light will shine away from him, and pulls up his tumblr app. Maybe a bit of scrolling will put him back in a sleepy mood; calm the heaviness of his heartbeat.

He scrolls for a while, reblogs a thing about The Office, smiling to himself at least, and distracted from the frustration at his state of awakeness, when Connor shifts, the sheets rustling under the movement.

“Troye?” he mumbles.

“Sorry,” Troye whispers back, pressing the phone against his chest to block out the light from the screen, squinting in the darkness for a moment.

Connor’s eyes are barely open. Well, he’s bound to be jetlagged as well as just exhausted.

“What’re y’doing?” Connor asks.

“Woke up and was all riled up. Thought tumblr might distract me and put me back to sleep.”

“‘s it your birthday yet?”

“Yeah. Almost five am,” Troye says, smiling at the way Connor slurs his words through his tiredness. Connor’s lips pull into a slight smile and he tries to focus his eyes on Troye.

“Happy Birthday,” he says, and lets an arm flop over so it hits Troye in the chest and then comes to lie on top of Troye’s own arm.

“Thanks,” Troye whispers back.

“Now go back t’sleep,” Connor mumbles, eyes falling shut again and breath evening out almost immediately.

Troye sort of wants to roll his eyes - he would if he could! - but as he blinks he finds it harder to keep his eyes open, so he shuts off his phone and puts it back down, letting his eyes slip shut. Connor’s arm is warm and heavy where it’s lying across Troye’s wrist, and he concentrates on that and his own breathing, and feels himself drift back off into sleep.

The next time he wakes up, it is to Connor’s face.

 

**The End**


End file.
